


Trapped in the Closet

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, BDSM, Christmas, M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 11:33:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1093418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave and John are searching for hidden presents in Dad's closet when Dad returns... with Bro.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trapped in the Closet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Imasupermuteant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imasupermuteant/gifts).



> Thank you to stunrunner for editing!

"Didn’t you do this shit when you were like six?” Dave asked, following John with a bored look on his face. To be fair, he had done this shit at the age of seven, not six. It had been the first and last time he tried, since he found out the hard way that digging through Bro’s unopened boxes was not a great way to find not-yet-wrapped presents, but an excellent way to discover fuzzy, prosthetic dongs.

Right now, Dave and his dorky friend were in Mr. Egbert's walk-in closet, which was unlike any closet he had seen before at half the size of Dave's bedroom, and incomparably immaculate.

"Your dad's too smart for you, Egbert," Dave continued. "He's already hidden them too well for you to find. Or he hasn't bought them yet."

"No, they’ve got to be here. He’s hidden them well, but with a bit of luck I’ll find them," insisted John, tapping his chin as he surveyed potential hiding spots.

"Dude, it's three weeks before Christmas."

"It's my Dad. He always buys them like six weeks before," John insisted, apparently deciding on his tactic, beginning to open shoe boxes and peer inside of them.

"Just one problem with your plan."

"Yeah?"

"Someone's coming up the stairs."

"Shit!" John exclaimed, jumping to flick off the closet light switch. He lowered his voice as he positioned himself back in the shadows, but close enough to peer out of the crack in the closet door. "I thought we'd hear the door when he came back inside!"

But it wasn't just one "he," Dave realized as he heard a second set of footsteps shortly behind the first.

With a sinking feeling, Dave realized that Bro must be here early to pick him up.

"You'll need to be quiet,” Dave heard Dad say, “since the boys are in John's room."

"What, you think it's gonna be hard for me to keep my voice down?" Bro replied. "Someone's cocky.”

"Need I remind you of last time?"

Bro sighed loudly and Dave shifted uncomfortably. He had no idea what the hell they were talking about but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Seriously, it sounded like innuendo, but despite Bro being hella gay, there was no way straight-as-a-white-picket-fence Dad Egbert was his type.

Of course, that assumption didn’t explain what that soft, wet noise Dave was now hearing was.

Dave gently shoved John out of the way to look out the crack into the bedroom. He couldn’t see John’s expression, but his friend’s lack of any physical objection - verbal would have doomed both of them - was understandable the moment Dave could see. He instantly regretted it. Dave couldn’t really see much from this angle, but that was definitely Mr. Egbert’s back, and those arms were definitely Bro’s. And damn, Bro wasn’t even wearing his hat, what the hell?

Mesmerized, Dave couldn’t tear his eyes away. There was a throaty moan from one of them - _it sounded like bro it cant be bro bro doesnt moan for anyone_ \- and the pair shifted out of sight. Dave slumped back into the closet, falling beside John. It was nearly silent except for some soft sounds that might be kisses, for a few minutes. Egbert Junior seemed to be frozen in terror at the whole situation, and Dave was, yeah, weirded out, but at least it was getting to John more than to him.

That small solace lasted until there was the undeniable rustle of clothes being pulled off.

“Strider, that’s not how I taught you to fold your shirt,” Dad said sternly.

“Whoops.”

Fold? And why the hell wasn’t Bro just laughing at Egbert?

“Sorry - whoops, _sir,_ ” Bro said a moment later, voice still shimmering with humor but a touch more subdued than his first “whoops.”

There were more sounds of presumed garment removal as Dave tried very hard not to think about what he had just heard, where this was going, or the fact that John was sitting right there next to him. No, Dave was definitely not thinking about how his dorky, kinda-cute best friend was in a dark closet with him, seated close enough their asses were touching, listening to the sound of their guardians steadily hiking up to the peak of Mount Gettin’ It On. He was definitely focusing on creating some sick new rhymes and hilariously bad jokes for Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff.

There was the sound of a belt being pulled out of its loops and- thwacked in the air? Damn, this was hitting some Trapped in the Closet levels of fucked up right about now.

“Place your hands on the bed,” came Dad’s voice.

There was no way in hell.

“Yes, sir,” replied Bro.

Dave wanted to die. Thank fucking god there was no light, but hell John could probably _feel_ the heat emanating from Dave’s face from the sheer mortification of knowing - _thwack_ \- that his bro was Daddy Egbert’s obedient, masochistic bitch. Worse still, Dave knew it was fucked up and awful so why the hell was his cock starting to get uncomfortable in his pants?

When the first strike of the belt rang through the air, Dave heard a muffled gasp from John. _Thwack._ The boy grabbed Dave’s hand and squeezed. What the hell was John thinking? Probably just horrified and panicking at - _thwack_ \- hearing his dad smacking some other middle-aged dude’s ass with a belt.

A moment after the thought came to him, Dave realized he had no evidence that it was actually Bro’s ass getting hit, as opposed to some other part of him. Why did Dave automatically assume that? Why was he picturing Bro naked, with his ass up in the air, bare flesh getting rosier with each impact? Dave’s cock twitched and he bit his lip. Jesus dick this was _not ok_ on every goddamn level.

John pressed their joined hands against Dave’s thigh, squeezing again. He was leaning in, and Dave could hear his breathing. John’s breath was warm on his cheek; Dave turned blindly towards John. They must have been only inches away, and the idiotic thought of leaning in and kissing John sped through his head like a cheetah on crack, in and out before he really considered it. Dave was providing his friend with a little much-needed emotional support right now, and wasn’t going to mess that up. Besides, if he did anything that spooked John, John might make a noise. Being trapped here was bad enough ; being discovered ... Dave didn't even want to think about it.

“Fuck, Egbert!” Bro groaned. This time, John squeezed Dave’s hand so hard it was painful.

“Language,” Dad said coolly. 

“Fuck, sir.”

Dave smirked despite himself, but the victory was short-lived when Bro replied stiffly.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“We’ve had this discussion before, Mr. Strider.”

“Seriously?" Pause. No response from Egbert Senior. "Oh come on, don’t be like that. Sir. Please.”

“I won’t tolerate foul language in my house, regardless of if it’s in the bedroom. If you’re serious about earning your training collar, you’ll demonstrate better self-control.”

“OK, I messed up. I’m sorry, sir. May I please have some more, sir?”

“I believe your son and my son were planning to go to a movie tomorrow. We’ll pick this up again at that point.”

Dave half-expected another snappy come-back from Bro, but after a few seconds of silence, it was that phrase again. Not whipped nor meek, but not sarcastic either. Polite, calm, and with an undertone of desire that Dave couldn’t miss.

“Yes, sir.”

“Much better. You may put your clothing back on.

“You did well at taking the belt this time,” Dad continued. “The physical challenges appear to come easier to you than the protocol.”

“You say that like you’re at all surprised," said Bro.

Surprised. Yeah.

Dave sat in shock as he heard Bro and Dad leave the room. He was numbly aware that they should get the fuck out, before anyone came back into the bedroom. Looking for Christmas presents? No, even though they totally were, Bro would assume Dave was being a little perv and spying on purpose because he knew Dave was too old for that other shit. And Dad… Dave just imagined the sound of his belt being taken off again and shuddered.

Finally, Dave released John’s hand. The other boy took the hint and recoiled as if he’d been asleep and then suddenly doused with ice water, letting go and leaping to his feet. Neither said anything as they pushed the closet door open and hurried out of Dad’s room. They didn’t even look at each other, which was for the best considering Dave was sure his face was beet red.

Luckily, Bro and Dad had gone back downstairs, so they made their escape unseen. Their guardians would never know. But John would remember, and Dave would remember. He wasn’t sure which was worse.

Either way, it'd be immeasurably awkward. The totally-but-maybe-not-platonic hand-holding incident in the closet would be weird enough, but it was nothing compared to what they’d heard going on outside the closet. It was humiliating having John know that Dave’s bro was Daddy Egbert’s bitch, training submissive, whatever the hell. Dave had always looked up to his Bro, and had gotten to brag about how much more awesome he was than the other kids’ boring guardians. So much for that.

All those thoughts haunted Dave throughout the day, but nothing was worse than trying to fall asleep that night, ears ringing with the memories of the thwack of the belt and Bro’s moans.

Dave tossed and turned, forcing it out of his mind only to be assaulted with the awful idea that when he had felt John’s breath on his face, he should have just kissed that dork. It seemed so obvious in retrospect; John couldn’t see in the dark, so it’s not like he was watching Dave, or even looking at him for reassurance. The more Dave thought through it, the more clear it was that John must have turned and come so close because he wanted a kiss. Why that dweeb had picked such a weirdass time for it, Dave wasn’t going to deconstruct, but hell, it had been an opportunity - and Dave had been too chickenshit to take it. Not to mention, Dave knew he was too chickenshit to try to make a new opportunity arise, even without fucked up quasi-incestous voyeurism going on.

Looking back, the Christmas season discovery of puppet porn props didn’t seem that scarring in comparison.

**Author's Note:**

> Fulfilling my contractual obligation for Bro/Dad fic: Accomplished.
> 
> http://gendersquare.tumblr.com/post/68834635974/imasupermuteant-gendersquare


End file.
